Nietzsche so many years ago. It was this thought that had intellectually
seduced her, because, for her, feminism and women’s liberation (her
ideological religion) were that “something greater.” But, she realized, to
Nietzsche, it was simply another construct, another conceit, another human
failure, another dead god.
Meta would go on and do great things. In Germany and Austria, she
would organize marches for women’s suffrage—and achieve it. She would
inspire thousands of women worldwide to stand up for their own god projects,
for their own redemption, their own liberation. She would quietly,
anonymously, change the world. She would liberate and free more human
beings than Nietzsche and most other “great” men, yet she would do this from
the shadows, from the backstage of history. Indeed, today, she is known
mostly for being the friend of Friedrich Nietzsche—not as a star of women’s
liberation, but as a supporting character in a play about a man who correctly
prophesized a hundred years of ideological destruction. Like a hidden thread,
she would hold the world together, despite being barely seen and quickly
forgotten.
She would go on, though. She knew she would. She must go on and
attempt to cross the abyss, as we all must do; to live for others despite still not
knowing how to live for herself.
“Meta,” Nietzsche said.
“Yes?”
“I love those who do not know how to live,” he said. “For they are the
ones who cross over.”